


"Dream within a Dream"

by Leviathan0999



Category: Give My Regards to Broad Street (1984)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-16
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 16:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leviathan0999/pseuds/Leviathan0999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just how many levels of reality can there be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Dream within a Dream"

**Author's Note:**

> Since I seem to be the only person on Earth who actually loves the movie "Give My Regards to Broad Street," it seemed only fitting I write the world's only fanfic based on it.
> 
> Yes, it's very slight indeed.
> 
> Please remember, this is not RPF. These are all fictional characters, two named after, and played by, famous musicians.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Paul is pained to admit it, but with his bright eyes and Australian accent and sharp cheekbones, Steve is nearly as good at the affectionately mocking eyebrows as John was. Paul doesn't really know how cheekbones and an accent contribute to the eyebrow thing, but they do.

Paul looks mildly back at him, his own eyebrows arched in benign expectation.

"So you're saying," Steve finally continues, his voice rich with mildly sardonic enjoyment, "that you dreamed that you daydreamed that you hallucinated."

"Yeah," says Paul, his tone daring Steve to find anything notable in that.

"and you thought _George_ was the philosopher!" Ringo mutters.

Harry shakes slightly, straightening his narrow shoulders. He's clearly a bit hurt by Paul's daydream -- he's done his stretch, will it follow him for the rest of his life? -- but Paul knows he's a realist, and he's used to it, and he's already making the extra effort to get over it. It's part of why Paul hired him, despite his record: Harry means to stay clean, and he goes the extra mile to prove it. "Here's what _I_ want to know," Harry says. "How do we know _we're_ even real?"

Paul and Steve and Ringo burst out laughing, and Harry, buoyed, continues, "You're Mister Superstar, after all. The sort of bloke people are always making up stories about. Maybe we're all in one now, have you thought of _that?_ So maybe you're just a character in a story, eh? Maybe you were just _written_ to dream you daydreamed you hallucinated?" As they guffaw further, he continues, "Or maybe it's a _movie_ of a story, eh? S'pose you're just _pretending_ , you know, _acting_ , since somebody wrote it, like you dreamed that you daydreamed that you hallucinated that you...?"

Their laughter's drowning him out now, and Paul meets his eyes, putting that little more into his smile. _This is why we like you, Harry. This is why we keep you around. Never mind how hard you work, never mind how loyal you are. You always make us smile, always make sure it's fun._

"God bless ya, Harry," Paul says softly. "I'm glad you're here."


End file.
